Parker’s engine raced. The tires bumped into a drive.
He was turning around.
Getting into a house without Parker hearing me would be good. Waking the neighborhood until someone called the police would be better.
I studied my taped wrists then lifted my bound hands above my head. As hard as I could, I yanked down and apart. Took a couple tries, but the tape tore.
Thank the Lord for Uncle Will and his forced self-defense classes. Always press your hands together if someone’s taping your wrists. Not that I’d needed that information before.
The Audi revved. Tires squealed.
Why didn’t anyone in this neighborhood care about this vehicle which, to me, sounded like it was driven by the devil himself?
A few lights were on in some homes. I peered around the garage I stood behind. The headlights of a slow-moving vehicle shone on the street in front of me. I jerked my head back to keep my shadow from showing.
If I ran to this house and pounded on the door, would anyone come out before Parker saw me? The house was dark. Like no one was at home. But there was a car in the drive. One of those VW bugs. The new kind with the eyelashes.
I waited for Parker’s car to drive down the street, then tore out from behind the garage and pulled on the car doors. An alarm went off. I pelted across the yard to the next house. Their security light flared. I yanked on the door handle of a Toyota Tundra. The alarm whined. The Buick LaSabre next to it wasn’t alarmed.
Before Parker could turn around, I dashed across the street and attacked the GMC Jimmy. Three alarms sang. I ran to the back door and hammered on the window. The sticker said the window was also alarmed.
Parker had spun his Audi in the street, bumping over a curb to turn around.
Bringing up my elbow, I made a fist, covered it with my free hand, and slammed my elbow into the window. The window did nothing. However, white-hot lightning shot up my shoulder and into my neck, then down to my fingers.
Parker accelerated toward the house where I danced off the pain.
I gave up on the window and scooted toward the backyard. Except this homeowner with his tough-as-nails windows had also built a fence.
A light blinked on in the second story. And another.
The Audi braked in front of the house.
I ran to the front door and pounded with my good fist. No answer, yet lights were on. Giving up, I darted across the front lawn to the next house.
Parker flung open the Audi door and stepped into the street.
At the next house, I jammed my finger into the doorbell. No lights.
“You’re out of luck.” Parker pointed at the pistol tucked into his belt. Like he was some kind of gangster from the hood.
If I hadn’t been scared for my life, I would have laughed. Or cried. Poor little rich boy.
The front door flew open. “What’s going on out here?”
Parker and I stared at the man for a good half-second. He had his own pistol, raised to eye level. The man knew what he was doing. And didn’t care he’d answered my ring in nothing but his skivvies and boots.
Parker took the second half of that second to decide to run for it. A moment later, the Audi roared down the street.
“Sir, thank you for helping me.” I wanted to hug the man except he still had the handgun ready and aimed. And he was mostly unclothed. It might give the wrong message. “That guy, Parker Brakeman-Newson, tried to kidnap me. He had a gun. He grabbed me from a driveway in the back of your subdivision. Donna Sharp’s house. Please call the police and tell them.”
“I don’t know a Donna Sharp.”
“She lives at the end of Magnolia Lane.”
He lowered his gun. “Y’all were making a racket. Decent people are trying to sleep. Was that your boyfriend?”
“No, sir. I’m telling you he wanted to kidnap me. Parker Brakeman-Newson. He’s in a gang.”
“A gang? He don’t look like he’s in no gang.”
“He does dress well, I’ll give you that.” I pressed my once-taped-together hands into the international sign of prayer. “Please, call 911 and report this.”
“I’m gonna call them. Y’all stay right here until I get back.”
As soon as the door shut, I hightailed it for Donna’s. I hammered and rang, but Donna wouldn’t answer her door. Maybe she did leave on vacation. Or had gone to bed. Or The Misunderstood Mistress II was on.
I scooped up my bag, still lying in the drive—Parker Brakeman-Newson needed lessons in proper criminal etiquette. Who leaves the victim’s bag at the scene of a crime?—and slid into my truck. With the doors locked and the adrenaline fleeing my pores, the shakes set in. I took a couple deep breaths, clutched my shoulders, and thought about a plan.
Would Parker think I’d go to the police? Or would he hunt me down?
Parker might know I’d be reluctant to bring attention to Hazel and Rosie’s flight out of Dodge. If they had crossed state lines, they’d be in serious trouble. If I were Parker, I’d watch Cherry Tucker’s house just in case she didn’t go to the police.
Shinola, I thought. Todd’s home. Parker might find Todd. And Parker has a gun.
Thirty-One
My shakes subsided with a new shot of adrenaline. I needed to get over myself and save Todd. Dialing Todd, I explained the situation and asked him to head to Shawna’s. It made my gut hurt, but I knew he’d be safe there.
I had to let him go sometime. Might as well be now.
With a half-tank of gas and ten bucks in my pocket, I had a full night ahead of me. Dodging a gang of country thugs, of all things. I’d maneuvered Todd out of my house to protect him from Parker, but I couldn’t return home either. I couldn’t go to the farm. That would raise too many questions with Pearl. Grandpa Ed would call the Sheriff if he thought I was in trouble. Uncle Will would gladly have me sleep in a cell. For my own good.
Plus I was in no mood for goats.
My sort-of boyfriend lived at his momma’s while he saved money. The momma married to JB Branson. That wouldn’t go over at all.
Besides, Luke worked nights. He also might have me arrested. For my own good.
Too bad I couldn’t send myself to Shawna’s house like I did Todd. Not that I thought she’d let me stay. Or I’d want to stay. I’d rather cut off my nose to spite that ugly face. But I did have unfinished business. And with the whole facing-death scenario I’d done a few times this very night, it felt like a good time to unload my burden to Shawna. If Parker did catch me, I’d hate to have the knowledge of her father’s whereabouts on my conscience.
Luke was right. I needed to get it done. Whether it helped Cody or not. Whether she thought it was blackmail or not.
Actually taking it to her on the threat of my death kicked the whole blackmail idea out the door. How could I use the information if I were dead?
With that understanding, I parked in the drive of her apartment building, marched to Shawna’s door, and pressed the bell. I was prepared for a full Shawna onslaught. Catty remarks. Nasty looks. An open-handed slap. Or a girly shove.
But not this. Shawna in tiger-striped silk pajamas. Todd in sweats. Answering the door together. With the appropriately shocked looks on their faces upon seeing me.
Matching looks of shock.
Shawna reached for Todd’s hand.
My stomach rolled and I fought to calm the hurt welling in my chest. He’d kissed her and he liked it. I’d broken his heart. He was with Shawna.
The Bransons had taken everything from me. Except Luke. But even with him, those gray- and blue-eyed babies kept rearing their adorable heads and scaring me. Maybe in this way, the Bransons had taken Luke too. They had spoiled my relationship with him through my own anxiety-riddled imagination. Based on fear of Bransons.
I shook off the shoc
k, told myself to be happy for Todd, and gave Shawna my best howdy-do.
“What are you doing here?” Shawna pulled her hand from Todd’s to cross her arms over her ample chest.
We were back on familiar territory. Good. Hostility kept me from getting mopey.
“I’m not staying long,” I said. “I’ve got a drug dealer after me. Makes me better understand your anger with my brother. I now know how it feels to be kidnapped. Of course you didn’t get tied up and have a bag pulled over your head, but still...”
Todd’s fingers hammered against his sweatpanted thigh.
“Very funny.” Shawna’s eyes blazed green fire. “You came here this time of night to badger me about what your brother did to me? Of all the nerve.”
“This is not about that, I swear. I was trying to empathize and I guess it didn’t work.” I shuffled my feet and searched for humility. “So what I meant, in case I don’t make it—”
“In case you don’t make it?” Shawna snorted. “Are you kidding me? You interrupted us on purpose because you knew Todd came over. You want him back.”
“Shawna, Cherry’s really been in trouble with local drug dealers. It wasn’t an excuse to come over.” Todd’s shade of Scarlet Lake did not suit him. And his defense needed work. But then Todd was never good with words.
Unless he was spilling his heart about dating my nemesis, that is.
“I know how this looks. I didn’t come here to interrupt y’all...doing...sleeping...arrangements.” I blew out a long breath. “I give you my blessing.”
“You give us your blessing?” She turned to Todd. “Can you believe this? She thinks we have to have her permission. She dumped you on your wedding day.”
“It was actually the next day,” I said.
“If you want to get technical,” said Todd.
“Shut up, Cherry.” Shawna turned her laser eyes off me and back to Todd. “Cherry Tucker has treated you like dirt. She led you on while she was sneaking around behind your back with my cousin.”
“Step-cousin.”
“Shut up, Cherry.” Shawna grasped Todd’s hands to keep them from drumming a hole through his sweatpants. “She uses you in her asinine capers and almost got you arrested. Drew drug dealers to your door so you can’t even stay at your own house. And that was just tonight.”
“Sometimes the asinine capers are his idea,” I said. “And that house is actually mine. For now.”
“Shut it.” She whirled back to Todd. “Can’t you see? She has rejected you time and again while she makes you dance to her bedbug-crazy tune. All the while, she’s making you look foolish to everyone else. But not to me. You are a sweet and caring man. And it’s time you get treated as you deserve.”
“That’s real nice, Shawna, but—”
I’d agree that Todd was sweet and caring. But spite made me interrupt. “He’s also got a gambling addiction. That I helped end.”
“By using sex as a weapon.”
“Have you seen how scrawny I am? How in the hell would I use sex as a weapon? I’m not the one walking around in animal-print lingerie, Cruella.”
Shawna’s mouth drew into a line so thin I was afraid she’d eaten her lips.
“Cherry,” said Todd. “And Shawna. Please.”
“Sorry.” I had forgotten Shawna’s mother also liked to answer the door in animal-print lingerie. Holding tea sweetened with vodka. Very popular with postal workers and milkmen. But that was after Billy had left. Shawna had her own family issues. And that put me back on track.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the paper Luke had given me. Placed it in Shawna’s hand.
Actually, I had to shove it between her hand and Todd’s.
“I don’t know how you’re going to react when you see this. Todd doesn’t know anything about it.” I shot Todd a look. He had that glazed Bambi-meets-the-hunter thing going on. But he understood to play dumb. Which wasn’t hard for Todd. That’s how he got so good at poker.
“This is just between you and me, Shawna,” I continued. “And I’m not telling anybody anything because it could affect me as much as it does you, believe it or not. This whole deal between us boils down to a problem between our parents. And this paper has information about the parent concerning you. His whereabouts for the past twenty years and his current address.” I figured I’d let her read Billy Branson’s rap sheet in private.
“Just a cotton pickin’—”
I cut her off. “Maybe they were ‘friends.’” I air quoted and mentally kicked myself. I hated air quotes. This was what happened around Shawna. “Maybe not. It doesn’t make a difference to me, but it did to Cody. And he acted like an idiot. But he’s twenty-one and his brain never thought much past engine parts. A personal revelation like this did him a doozy. But that’s neither here nor there. I’m sorry for what Cody did to you. I’m sure it was embarrassing as hell. You don’t want people to know about our families’ past and you certainly don’t want Cody and Casey rubbing your nose in it.”
“You have no idea—”
“Take this and do what you want. It’s got nothing to do with me. The guilt of knowing such a thing is about too much and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I didn’t know how you’d react.”
“Get out,” she snarled.
“I take that back. I figured you’d react something like this.” I bowed my head. “Don’t worry, I’m getting.”
I looked up to meet Todd’s cerulean blues. My chest felt like it might cave in on itself. I couldn’t leave him like this. “I never meant to hurt you, Todd. I always considered you my best friend. I’ve been selfish wanting a friendship where you needed more. You grew up and I didn’t. The future scares the hell out of me. Probably why Momma left and I’m not much different.”
“Just like your momma.” Shawna crumpled the paper in her hand. “Stringing men along and driving them to distraction until they can’t see what’s in front of them.”
“Shawna, give us a minute.” Todd turned to me. “I understand, Cherry.”
I ignored Shawna and kept my eyes steady on Todd. “I guess you were my Peter Pan. But I’m no Wendy. I wish you the best.”
At least that was done.
I slept in my truck in the Waffle Hut parking lot, letting my engine run to stay warm. When the manager knocked on my window, I trooped inside and ordered a pecan waffle and a coffee. I used a napkin and a pen borrowed from the waitress to doodle and think.
Likely, Parker would still search for me. He was under orders from Palmetto who was under orders from his Atlanta thug boss who was under orders by his kingpin. Or whatever. I knew there was a strict hierarchy in gangland, but all that bureaucracy was hard to track. Anyway, if Parker found my house empty, there was one other place he’d look. Parker didn’t know about Ada’s restraining order. But he did know I was friends with Ada. And he did know I worked at Halo House.
“Hells bells,” I told the waitress, scrambling from my seat. “They need to be warned.”
I left my coffee and the confused waitress for the pay phone.
You’d think an anonymous tip—like “Belvia Brakeman’s grandson, Parker Brakeman-Newson, might try to infiltrate Halo House. Consider him armed and dangerous. Any sighting of Parker Brakeman-Newson should be reported to the police.”—would be taken more seriously by the Halo House night manager.
Not so much.
Returning to my seat and my cold coffee, I considered the options I had doodled on a handful of napkins.
The smart thing to do would be to call Luke, let them arrest me for my own good, and have them watch Halo House for Parker. They’d have my testimony of Parker’s kidnapping and Palmetto’s threatened assault.
But they’d never get Palmetto’s buddies to testify. The only thing Todd witnessed was me chasing Palmetto to the corn crib an
d then hunting him again at Splats. Where I shot Palmetto’s friends in the face and Palmetto where the sun didn’t shine. At point-blank range. Paintball gun was better than real but still wouldn’t look good in court.
And even though I had convinced Palmetto that Parker would rat him out, I wasn’t sure he would. Parker would have a good lawyer—likely Harry Hunt—who might take on Palmetto just to save Parker’s butt.
And I’d get another court-appointed attorney who’d be as good as the wingnut who tried to defend Cody.
If Luke and his deputies could pull together evidence of the Halo House drug smuggling ring to convict Parker and Palmetto, I’d still be selling Rosie and Hazel down the river with the P boys.
Here’s the thing. I’d much rather get Parker on murder. I had to stay out of jail-for-my-own-good. After all, I had made a promise to Belvia to figure out who killed her daughter. Daughters. And herself. And by doing that, I could help Luke and Uncle Will. If Uncle Will had a major murder conviction, that’d do him good in the next election. And it’d show everybody his niece wasn’t bedbug crazy. Including or excluding the Bransons.
I hoped our deputies could snatch Palmetto in a separate drug raid clear from Halo House. He wasn’t just selling little blue pills by the looks of stinky Jordan and associates. But I couldn’t implicate my friends.
However, another call from the Waffle Hut payphone, this time to the Forks County “Hot Tips” line, could help the deputies create a separate drug raid. Anonymously, of course. But with distinctive descriptions of Palmetto and his associates.
That done, I headed to my truck.
I was going after Parker. And I’d use myself as bait.
Thirty-Two
At this early hour, visitors didn’t yet fill the Halo House parking lot, although a Cobalt Yellow Corvette idled near the front doors. I did a quick scan for Parker and his Audi. I didn’t find Parker worthy of rocket-science-type criminal behavior but figured he couldn’t be foolish enough to park in plain sight. I’d have to sneak into Halo House to search him out. I hoped to lead him away. Toward a place less public, but with people.
A Composition in Murder (A Cherry Tucker Mystery Book 6) Page 24